


Parentheses

by AdurnaSkulblaka



Series: You [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fallen Gabriel, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 20:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1483333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdurnaSkulblaka/pseuds/AdurnaSkulblaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(And when you're holding me,<br/>We make a pair of parentheses,<br/>There's plenty space to encase,<br/>Whatever weird way my mind goes,<br/>I know I'll be safe in these arms.)</p>
<p>Sam does his best to care for Gabriel after the Fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parentheses

In the days following the Fall, you’re not even conscious. You don’t get to see the aftermath of the background noise you heard throughout the Trials; you don’t get the chance to offer your help or even theorise; you don’t get to see how Cas is. You’re completely out of it, recovering from the devastating effect the Trials have had on your body.

When you wake, you’re back in the bunker. You ache in ways that you didn’t even know it was possible to ache. Your limbs are heavy, your head throbs, and you feel tired enough to consider just rolling over and going back to sleep. Your room is dark, thank God, but that doesn’t help much in the grand scheme of things. 

In the end, you decide to get up. You don’t know how long you’ve been out for, and that bothers you. Everything could be over and you wouldn’t even know. 

You can hear voices when you step out into the corridor. They’re faint and coming from the direction of the kitchen, so, using the wall to hold yourself up on shaky legs, you head in that direction. 

It’s Kevin and Dean - you know both of their voices and you find comfort in their familiarity. They appear to be arguing amongst themselves, but you can’t pick up on what it is; all you can hear is Dean’s frustrated tone and Kevin’s bored one. Their voices are quiet, yet it hurts, increasing the force of the pounding in your head. 

Grimacing, you say, “Could you guys shut up?” 

You can almost hear the whistle of wind as Dean’s head snaps up. He looks you up and down, taking in the little nuances that show just how weary you are: your lean against the doorframe, your barely stifled yawns, and the bags under your eyes are just a few of those. 

“Sammy.” 

As always, Dean says your nickname in a way that makes you a little uncomfortable with the implications - that you’re a child that can’t make his own decisions - but it’s also a blanket of reassurance; if Dean’s here to be unintentionally patronising, then that means you’ve mostly made it out okay. 

You offer him a tiny flicker of a smile. “Hey, Dean. What-” 

Before you can even ask your question, he’s in your space, a hand resting on your shoulder as he demands to know, “Are you okay?” 

“Tired.” You shrug. “A little better than before, I guess. How long was I out?” 

“Just under four days.” Dean glances you up and down again before moving away. His fingers twitch and reach for the appliances in the kitchen as he falls back on something that you still find a little surprising: cooking. Now that you look at it though, it seems so _Dean_ ; he’s creating something that he can control the development of, to a degree, and the results are almost always good. 

You move into the kitchen a little way, a frown tugging on your brows. “Four days? What’s happened?” 

Dean’s movements pause for a moment. His head tilts to the side as he says, “Kev, you wanna fill him in?” 

You look to him instead, waiting for clarification. You can’t help viewing him as a child, despite the fact that he’s eighteen and probably actually smarter than you were at that age - but when that reminds you of Dean’s treatment of you, you try to treat Kevin more like an adult, because God knows you’d have liked that when you were eighteen. 

Kevin sighs, rubbing his upper arm with a hand with an uncomfortable expression. “While you guys were gone, the machines started freaking out,” he explains. “The electricity went weird, too. Dean came back the next morning with you in tow, out like a light, and he says that the angels fell.” 

Your stomach drops, and immediately you think of Cas. He’s easily your best friend - not quite to the degree that he is with Dean, but there’s something there that’s entirely unique. It’s something you’ve had only once in your life, and that was with Jess. It’s the kind of friendship that speaks of more, teetering on the edge of something large and terrifying but also beautiful and good. 

Dean hasn’t piped up, so you decide to prompt him. “Have you heard from Cas?” 

He raises and drops one shoulder in a tiny shrug. “He called, yeah. He’s trying to get here, but he doesn’t know how fast he’ll be. He’s outta mojo.” 

The simple fact that Cas is human is staggering. He’s fallen before, but this is on a whole new level. This is the _entire_ angel race - minus Metatron - on Earth, stumbling among humans. You’re almost afraid to ask about the chaos they’ve already caused, so you decide to ask about something else. 

“How far away is he?” You make your way to a counter as you talk, leaning against that instead. The stretch of floor between the wall and the counter is a little dangerous, as your legs don’t quite want to cooperate still, but the counter is safe ground once you reach it. 

Dean shrugs again. “He checked in yesterday, and he was a couple days away.” He glances past you, through the doorway, sucking his lower lip between his teeth slightly. It’s a nervous habit you know he has, one that he performs when he’s worried. “He’s due to check in soon, actually.” 

“He’s not late.” Kevin rolls his eyes and shoves his hands in his pockets, slouching over to the door and out. “You’re just impatient.” 

It’s a fair assessment, so you don’t argue with it. 

Apparently, Dean was only making food for you - maybe the others already ate? - because once it’s done, he ushers you through to the dining room, sits you down, and plants a plate of sausages, bacon, and eggs in front of you. 

“And you’re not gettin’ up ‘till you’ve eaten it all,” he says sternly. “You need to get your strength up again. We need all hands on deck with the angel situation.” 

Dean sits down opposite you and actually watches you eat, as if he’s making sure you follow his orders. It isn’t until the first bite that you realise how hungry you are, and once you’ve swallowed that, you start to wolf it down. You barely catch the flicker of a smile on Dean’s face - it’s there and gone in an instant, replaced once again by a familiar weariness. 

Once you’re done, you collect your plate and cutlery to take it through, waving off Dean’s offer of help in the process. His need to help is a little endearing, but you’re not a glass figurine; you won’t break at the slightest moment of strain. 

Besides, carrying something as light as a book is hardly that going to kill you. 

When you return, Dean’s phone is sat on the table and the screen is glowing. He’s already answered it, and you linger in the doorway to watch the relief and affection that spreads across his features. The voice across the line is Castiel’s, asking a question, and Dean grins as he replies. 

“Yeah, Sammy’s awake. He’s here right now, actually.” 

_“Hello, Sam. It’s good to hear that you’re well.”_

You smile a little as well as you return to the table. You’re feeling better all the time, but not nearly well enough to go anywhere near weapons or combat training yet. That needs to wait another few days yet, you think. Your coordination isn’t up to scratch just yet. 

“It’s good to hear from you too, Cas,” you answer. 

_“How are you?”_

“A little tired, but otherwise not too bad. You?” 

There’s a soft huff of a laugh. _“Disorientated. My senses are duller and yet sharper. I’m having trouble balancing my body’s needs. And then there’s the fact that I’m attracting angel attention.”_

Dean’s smile melts away. “You didn’t mention that.” 

_“Because so far it’s not the negative kind. They’re just lost ones looking for someone to lead them. Also, you were preoccupied.”_

Dean’s gaze meets yours briefly. His cheeks colour a little from being caught red handed. “Sorry.” 

_“Don’t be.”_

You can’t help feeling like you’re interrupting something private. That’s often the case with Dean and Cas; they’re so accidentally intimate all the time that you feel you need to excuse yourself so you don’t get toothache from the amount of sweetness going around. Knowing your luck, you probably would. 

So you decide to make an excuse out of being tired. You stretch, yawn, and gesture back to the corridor before mouthing ‘I’m heading back to bed’. Dean gives you a little nod before his gaze drops to his phone, and then he’s gone, lost in a conversation with Cas. 

You’ve only been awake for just under an hour, but you’re still exhausted. It’s a relief to sink back into bed after a quick change of clothes, and this time you welcome sleep instead of having it forced upon you. 

* * *

The next day is mostly the same, except this time you’re awake for longer. You catch up properly on what you missed, and during that you learn about Metatron’s tricks on Cas through Dean - you pick it out from swearing and anger from your brother, anyway. He’s angry, and rightfully so. 

You hit the books, deciding you’ll read up on what you can about Heaven’s situation. There’s very little to find, even in your expansive library, which is disappointing. Dean calls Cas again later in the evening to let him know that you’ve looked. 

You’re proud of yourself later for making it through a whole day with only a short nap in the middle, but you’re still just as wiped when you make it to bed that night. Curling up under the covers has never been so comfortable - well, aside from the empty space next to you, but at the end of the day, that’s just more space for you to sprawl your long limbs when you sleep. 

* * *

Your third day of wakefulness is when Cas turns up. With him is a familiar face that leaves you a little unsure of your footing again. 

Gabriel. 

He looks weary in a way that you’ve never really known to be on the archangel’s face. His hair’s a little shorter and he’s wearing a leather jacket instead of that one that was kind of similar to yours. 

Dean’s the first to the door, and for a moment you’re obstructed from greeting either Cas or Gabriel because your brother has an armful of the former between the two of you, and he refuses to let go. Judging by the state of matters, Cas isn’t going to either, so you nudge them to the side so Gabriel can come in. 

He does so, clearly relaxing once he’s in the safety of the bunker. A little of the old sparkle reappears in his eyes, even if it’s tired. 

Everyone seems to be tired lately. 

Gabriel cracks a smile and jokes, “What, no hug for me?” and, just because of that, you grab onto him and bring him in for one. 

It’s unexpectedly nice. 

He’s soft and warm in your arms, which is a drastic change to Dean’s solid bear hugs. Gabriel melts into your embrace, burying his face into your chest without asking, but you don’t mind. You feel his hands twist into the back of your shirt and hold on tight as he slumps forwards, leaning on you completely. 

You half expect him to smell of candy since he used to consume so much, but instead there’s just the scent of human sweat and something like the raw smell of petrichor - the first rain after a long period of dryness. 

You start to curl into the hug a little more, only for Dean to clear his throat and say, “Alright, enough touchy feely crap, you two. Back off before I’ve gotta get my shotgun.” 

When you part, Gabriel smirks, but he’s not all there. You can see the hollowness in him, you _felt_ it when you hugged him. 

You recognise it in yourself. 

* * *

You set Cas and Gabriel up with a room each. It’s no surprise to anyone that Cas somehow ends up with one opposite Dean’s - Kevin mutters something about them needing to be close so they can sneak over to each other’s rooms, and Dean turns pink and lightly punches the kid’s (the _young man’s_ , you remind yourself) arm. 

A little more surprisingly, Gabriel takes one next to yours. 

After a celebratory dinner of burgers, courtesy of Dean, Gabriel slips away to his room. You almost follow, but you decide to leave him alone in favour of taking Cas aside while Dean’s cleaning up. You move far enough from the dining room that you can only just hear Dean’s humming from the kitchen. 

“Is he okay?” you ask. There’s no point in dodging the point of this. “Gabriel, I mean. He seems a little…” 

“He’s not taking to humanity very well.” Cas grimaces. “He needs time and encouragement, I think. He was worse when I found him.” 

You don’t really want to know what that was like, but you wish that you could have been there to pick him up. You’re a little surprised at your own desire to help Gabriel when he hasn’t done a terrible amount for you in the past. Sure, he helped you and Dean escape from that one fancy hotel, and he had ultimately good intentions when he trapped you in a time loop and TV Land, but they were horrific events at the time. 

Maybe it’s because he looks so small now without wings to bulk him up. Maybe it’s because you’re starting to see the Gabriel behind the flamboyant exterior, the one that’s a little more like you: a kid that never really was accepted by his family, so he left. You two have that in common, at least. 

Cas’ hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “I also think that he would appreciate a friend,” he adds, giving you a meaningful look. 

You smile softly, brushing off his hand. “I get it. You want me to look after him.” 

“I would appreciate it.” Cas has one of his rare smiles on his face now. It’s a gentle one, where the warmth is concentrated in his eyes rather than his mouth. 

There’s something looser about him now that he’s human. You can’t place what it is exactly, but he just seems more comfortable; his back isn’t the stiff straight line it used to be, and his face is a tiny bit more expressive. 

Maybe it’s his clothes. Maybe it’s his jeans and hoodie giving you the impression of a Cas that’s not all hard angles and tough edges anymore. 

You don’t interrupt Gabriel that night. You let him do what he needs to do to settle in, and you head straight to bed once the festivities and welcoming is over. By the time morning rolls around, you haven’t heard a peep from him. 

When you get up, however, you find him standing outside his room, looking a little lost. 

You can tell straight away that he hasn’t slept. His hair is ruffled, there are dark smudges under his eyes, and there’s a weariness in him that you recognise as one you’ve experienced too many times to count. 

“Morning, Gabe,” you offer, and the nickname rolls so easily off of your tongue, like it was always meant to be there, like you’ve never had to hiss his name in anger or fear or hatred. 

There’s a tiny smile on his lips. “Morning, Sammy.” 

You hesitate to leave. The sight of Gabe, stood there on his own, smaller than his small frame usually gives an impression of, makes you want to stay. 

“You didn’t sleep,” you state. 

His smile returns, but this time it’s with a degree of self-hatred. “Nope. I can’t.” He sighs, his smile dropping along with his gaze. “I don’t. If I don’t run myself into the ground, I don’t sleep.” 

He’s only been human roughly a week, and he’s already talking like a hunter who’s seen too much. 

You gently grab his shoulder and turn him back towards his room. “Go back to bed, Gabe. You can’t function like that - believe me, I’ve tried.” 

He halfheartedly tries to push you off, but he gives in when you open the door to his room and leads the way. Gabe’s room is sparse, filled with the bare minimum at the moment: a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk. The lamp on the bedside table is switched on, but its glow is hardly warm. 

“Sam, you don’t know what it’s like.” Gabe does brush you off then, and you let him go. He lingers in the middle of the room, shoulders a little hunched, seeming smaller than ever. 

You miss his jokes and tricks and bouncy personality. 

“It’s quiet.” Gabe raises a hand to run it through his hair, looking up and around again. “Real quiet. Even when I was dead there was sound, but…” He shakes his head, biting his lip briefly. “It’s too quiet. How am I supposed to sleep when it’s quiet?” 

You sometimes forget how it is that angels really function. You’re so used to being around Cas that you don’t always remember everything about them - to you, he just seems like a regular guy, only with a few extra powers. You often forget that angels are all linked in a way that humans likely never will be. 

You can hardly imagine the connection, so you can’t imagine what it would be like to lose it. 

“Listen to music while you sleep,” you suggest. 

But Gabe huffs a laugh without humour and shakes his head again. “It just makes it worse, ‘cause no one’s actually there. The only time I can sleep is when there’s someone else there. It was okay when Cas was there.” 

The answer is obvious then, isn’t it? 

You turn around again, beckoning him to follow, as you head straight back for your own room. You can hear the patter of his bare feet on the floor, so you know he’s coming with you. You head over to your own bed and slide back under the covers - but instead of taking up that empty sprawl-space, you leave it clear as you pull back the other corner so Gabe can join you. 

Gabe raises his eyebrows, and despite his weariness, there’s a small smile there. “Take me to dinner first, Sammy.” 

You can’t help but smile a little bit at that. “Maybe later. You need to sleep. Come here.” 

He doesn’t hesitate to join you now. He crawls into place next to you, and even goes so far as to snuggle up to you, too - which, actually, you don’t mind all that much. Gabe wraps his arms around you and noses into your chest, relaxing with a heavy sigh. You let your arms fall around him to pull him in, too. 

It’s like the hug you shared when he arrived, only horizontal. 

And it’s not so bad. You like it. You like having Gabriel here to share this space, and you don’t mind that he’s taken up the part of the bed where you usually fling your limbs during sleep, because Gabriel’s preferable. 

He’s warm and the perfect size for you to curl around for a good cuddle. He seeks you out and burrows closer, even though you’re tightly wrapped together already, and even though you’re pretty sure that his deep, steady breathing means that he’s asleep. 

You hope that he feels safe here - and not just with you, either. You want to help him with the burden of humanity in any way you can, and this is a good start. 

Later, you’ll get him that dinner, and through his amusement you’ll see a flicker of hope and affection. You’ll see it for what it is: that desire for closeness that you think Gabriel has always had but has never fulfilled. 

It’ll take time, but you’ll slowly come together. Gabriel never spends the night in his own room again anyway, since it makes sense for him to stay with you so he can sleep. That’s your excuse that you two tell Dean, although the small smile on Cas’ mouth lets you know that he’s seen through you as easily as you saw through Gabe. Kevin just rolls his eyes when he sees you two together and tries not to be in the room when it’s just with you and Gabe. You never announce that the two of you have become official. It becomes common knowledge in the bunker, but you never go out of your way to state it. 

You and Gabe slot together in a way that’s easy and comfortable, almost like the way you fit together when you curl up around each other at night. 

Having someone fill that space isn’t something you thought you’d have the opportunity for again. You’d reconciled yourself with the idea of having your sprawl-space. 

Now, you want Gabe to have that space, and he‘s more than happy to take it.


End file.
